


Makeup

by novaartinoisaqueen



Series: Stand alone fics [3]
Category: Renegades - Marissa Meyer
Genre: Baby Nova, i need to write more of the babys when they were younger, she be cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novaartinoisaqueen/pseuds/novaartinoisaqueen
Summary: the other day I read over some supernova scenes that made me upset and want to write some younger nova with the anarchists for whatever reason. so, I wrote a little fic with honey and nova when nova’s 12 (and too nice for her own good like cmon the anarchists shouldve see her “weaknesses” before she went undercover as a renegade)
Series: Stand alone fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674508
Kudos: 16





	Makeup

**Author's Note:**

> moving most of my works from tumblr (nova-artino-is-a-queen). enjoy!

After nearly six years of living with the Anarchists, Nova had learned that Honey Harper was best left alone when she went into a crying meltdown. The first time she had heard the painful sobs coming from the older woman’s train car, Nova had been eight and concerned. Ingrid and Leroy advised against Nova going to comfort the distressed Anarchist, as it was normal for her. At least, normal since the Age of Anarchy came to an abrupt end and Ace was forced into hiding. 

Tonight, however, Nova was recovering from a high fever that almost had Leroy taking her to the hospital out of desperation, as none of his concoctions or drug store medicine was helping. It was a last resort, as no one knew of Nova’s existence among the Anarchists, and a simple DNA testing could have her removed from her only family and placed in a foster home. Thankfully, as if by some miracle, she pulled through and was now resting and regaining her strength, something that would be easier if not for the pitiful wails coming from the other side of the subway tunnels. 

Everyone else was asleep, so not even Ingrid could go and shut Honey up. Nova had a piercing headache and a sore throat that made talking like poking knives into her neck and chest, and was not really in the mood to hear the sound all night. That, mixed with her own body racking coughs, were enough to send Nova over the edge. 

Sighing heavily, the movement ending in a pathetic wheeze she could feel squeezing her lungs, Nova snapped her copy of one of Ace’s books shut and set it beside her cot. She would have to return to her pre-Age of Anarchy literature later. For a moment, she debated making some tea to take with her just in case Honey ended up sending her away and she would need a legitimate reason for being there. But she decided against it, not in the mood for the cheap, bitter tea Leroy got from the nearest convenience store. 

It was cold in the tunnels, being early November, the prime season for illness, so Nova grabbed the blanket off of her cot and wrapped it around her shoulders. After a second thought, she also grabbed Dolly Bear, who was sitting beside her bed. The bear was as old as Nova, and after almost twelve years of wear and tear, it’s age was beginning to show. Nova made an effort to take care of it, since it was one of her only remaining physical memories of her family, but she couldn’t always stitch up age. 

Upon reaching Honey Harper’s door, the crying now obnoxiously loud, Nova raised a hand and knocked. Briefly, the sobs paused so Honey could allow Nova entrance into her train car. As always, Honey was at her mirror surrounded by wasps and bees of all kinds. Before her sat a collection of beauty products, some looking older than others as if they meant more than what could be seen by the eye. 

Honey sniffled. “Oh! Nova, darling, I wasn’t expecting you. Usually it’s Ingrid who comes to my door this late at night.” She touched her curls softly with her hands, attempting to fix her messed up hairdo. 

Nova almost retorted that she was only there to deliver the same message Ingrid would’ve eventually given, to shut up, but the words died before she could even open her mouth at the tear and mascara streaks running down Honey’s face. The empty, haunting, glassy eyes. 

She lifted the corners of her lips up slightly and shrugged. “I just thought you might want some company?”

Honey’s face relaxed at that, and while she didn’t smile, she pointed to a small ottaman beside her cot. “Pull that over here next to me.” Nova did as she was told, sitting and curling her knobby knees up underneath of her on the cushion. A bumble bee landed lazily on Nova’s finger, and she gently shooed it away. 

“How’s that fever of yours been? Staying down, I hope.” Honey grabbed a tissue on her vanity and dabbed at her eyes, not doing the best job at removing her runny makeup. 

Nova nodded, hugging her bear closer to her chest. “I’m not sick anymore, just coughing and a headache. But they’re not a big deal,” she tacked on quickly, not wanting Honey thinking that she was weak. “The fever wasn’t even that bad.”

Honey raised an eyebrow. “Really? Last I checked, a fever of one hundred and four is not something many would classify as nothing. You’re lucky to be getting better without needing medical attention, Nova.”

“I guess.” Nova’s fingers became distracted with a hole near Dolly Bear’s eye. “At least now I can resume my training with Ingrid.” 

Honey turned from her to face her mirror again, checking her appearance carefully. “Is that all you care about, darling? There is more to life than fighting and weapons and blood.” A shudder ran through her body. “Not that I’m saying it’s not important. I’ve had my fair share of violence.” Her manicured hand drifted over to a mean looking wasp sitting upon a makeup compact, stroking it’s back gently with one finger. Nova averted her gaze; she had never been victim to one of Honey’s bees or wasps, but she had heard stories of how terrible they were, more painful and dangerous than a normal bee sting. She could only imagine how many had fallen to Honey’s pets. 

“I will not rest until the Renegades pay for what happened to my family. Whatever the cost.” Nova wondered how convincing her words sounded, considering she was sitting cross legged on top of a cushion with a torn up stuffed bear clutched between her fingers, looking bony and sickly from her fever. Probably not very.

Honey studied Nova, and Nova’s cheeks reddened at her intense stare. It wasn’t often Queen Bee paid so much attention to anyone other than herself. “How old are you again, child? Nine? Ten?”

Her fingers tightened around the bear. “I’ll be thirteen in May.” 

Honey hummed in her throat, then reached forward and grabbed a bottle from a pile of other bottles on her vanity. “I was eleven when my mother first let me put makeup on. Not much, just some eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick. Have you ever worn makeup before?” Nova shook her head. Her personal belongings consisted of what little she had from her life before the Anarchists and what she needed for her inventions and for survival. She would never waste money on something as self centered as makeup. Besides, she had never understood the point of makeup, or why people even liked it. 

“Well, a girl’s go-to best friend is eyeliner.” Honey rolled the bottle in her palm. “Face me. I’ll put a little on you.” Nova watched as she unscrewed the top and pulled out a wand. Honey leaned toward Nova with the device poised between her clawed fingers; Nova shrank back on instinct. Honey rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t hurt, I promise.” 

Nova would rather not have Honey’s hands so close to her eyes, but if it kept the woman distracted and from crying, well. Nova held back a sigh and turned toward Honey, tilting her head up. 

“Close your eyes.” She did as she was told, and nearly flinched when the cool, wet end of the wand pressed against her inner eyelid. Honey placed her other hand on Nova’s chin to hold her still. Makeup felt weird. Nova was surprised how heavy the eyeliner felt on her eyelids when she opened her eyes up after Honey was finished, blinking rapidly. 

She turned her head to look in the mirror, squinting to get a better look. It wasn’t often she saw her reflection, much less saw it willingly. It was nothing fancy, just a simple wing on either lid, standing out against Nova’s plain complexion. 

“What do you think?” Honey clasped her hands together, waiting for Nova to show any reaction. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she liked it. Maybe one day she would, but that day was not today. However, due to Honey’s fragile mental state, she couldn’t just say that. 

Nova plastered a smile on her face. “It’s different.”

A sigh escaped the older woman’s honey-coated lips, appeased. “You’re turning into quite the pretty young lady, Nova. Almost as pretty as I was. It doesn’t surprise me, you’re parents were very attractive people, especially that handsome father of yours. I suppose it’s the Artino blood, huh? In just a few years, all the boys will be chasing after you. The ladies, too,” she added, laughing lightly. “Do you want to try now? I can teach you all the secrets to the perfect wing.” 

The mention of Nova’s parents flipped her stomach. Honey’s compliments on her looks turned her mouth sour, as she had never found herself attractive or anywhere near looking like her parents. Her face was plain, her long hair limp, and she didn’t have curves like Honey did; her body resembled a stick figure. She would rather not be in Honey’s car anymore, but glancing at the now dried tears and runny makeup left behind from Honey’s breakdown on her cheeks and her still red eyes, Nova forced herself to nod. 

She only somewhat paid attention to Honey as she dove into a lecture about the importance of a sharp wing.


End file.
